


Artillery and War Drums

by AnxiousEspada



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Confusing, Freeform, Insanity, M/M, Prussia has lost it, Sibling Incest, dub-con, im sorry, no direct mentions of certain things, non-con, post 1990
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousEspada/pseuds/AnxiousEspada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the wall fell, after being able to be together again, things turn out differently. Time has changed, and so did they.<br/>Prussia is different, Germany reflects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artillery and War Drums

**Author's Note:**

> omg I'm so sorry but I've had this stuck in my head for so long, please forgive me. And also please leave some comments, I need to know if this was too confusing or not. thanks.

Your Heart has always been beating with the sound of drums. Your Heart is thousands of feet marching desperately with the steady and rhythmic beat of war drums, synchronic, in discipline. As always, everything you do is disciplined and everything you do is always ready, set, go for war. Rapiers, and spears and bayonets, guns and the hooves of horses splitting the air, these are the sounds you live by. These are the sounds of your life, they have always been, for several hundred years.

The time of war drums is gone, though, and so is your time. Your life is not, that not, no- as long as people remember you – _and oh how you make them remember you_ \- you will be there and exist, as whatever they might be calling you. I could feel how scared you are about this, because time has always been _your_ time. And as long as I have known you, and I have known you for all my life, because you are – _have been_ \- all my life, you always found your way through. And you showed me how to do so too, by discipline and the deafening sound of beating drums. And for maybe a hundred years, this has worked with me, with us.

 

“Your heart is beating so fast, are you alright? What is it West, nervous because I’m here?”

 

No, actually you should know, I’m sure you _do_ know; my Heart has always been beating fast. Faster than yours, racing, racing forth, away from the marching feet and war drums, and you never knew what was going on, you had no idea, you were worried about my condition. You always thought my Heart was too rapid. The fault was always on my side, the rest you never considered. My Heart beats in the melodic fastness of a machine gun, you once came up with, when the new kind of artillery was one the run, and oh you didn’t like it. It was too fast for you, as I have always been. Maybe it’s because you’re naïve. Maybe it’s because you are scared. Maybe because time has always been by your side, but is quicker than you now. Maybe you were just ignoring the fact that your time is gone now, and not coming back.

 

“My heart is not beating too fast, brother. Trust me, I’m fine”

 

You’re eyes have changed a lot. They are still red as blood, crimson as a sunset in summer above the Baltic sea, but the glow comes from a different side now. Your mischief is gone, and only control is left. What is it you want to control? There is nothing here anymore that which obeys you. You’ve been gone for forty years, and everything you brought back has been made mine. That was not my decision, I hope you know that. It’s not my fault this time. When I was younger, hundred years younger, when people were standing on barricades crying for me, you maybe smelled it in the dusty air. The power I would have one day, the power that then you called yours, a power stronger than gun powder. That didn’t bother you at all, and you fought for me, over me, with me, and finally by my side. Never fearing me.

 

“Yeah you always said that, especially when you were not.”

 

And you pulled me into your arms, holding me, just for a little while, and do you have an idea how cold you were? You have grown so distant over those years. And I know the look you’re giving me, you’re blaming me for this. But I hugged you back, careful not to touch you too much, because you were cold and almost fragile but you didn’t let go of me. I was sure you had strength in those cold arms, because I remember that the next day there were bruises on me and there was no other reason for them to be there than to be from your embrace. You did that on purpose, I assume. Everything you do is on purpose. Though by then I wondered if you had any reason left to control that purpose.

 

“I’m fine.”  
“Right. I’m not. Haven’t been for maybe fifty years.”  
“I know. I’m sorry.”  
“You’re not.”

  
  
You broke the hug and simply walked away. Your silver hair looked pale, almost white in the afternoon sun, and while walking I recognized the small limp you had. You seemed to be a broken man, and you acted as if all of it had been my fault. Two points which both were wrong. You never were, never have been, never will be a broken man. Also, faults were not always to be mine, only because they weren’t yours. In that moment you made me just so –anxious, fearful, depressed- angry. I followed you back through the wide sun illuminated halls of this place, I grabbed you by your thin shoulder and I turned you around, you nearly tripped and glared at me-

 

“Yes I am! Do you think I had fun all these years without you? I missed you too, you know?”

 

Your cold crimson eyes shifted and suddenly I realized something. My heart wasn’t beating too fast. Yours was too slow. Has been too slow since that time we dreamed big dreams together. You didn’t believe me and that should have hurt, but somehow it didn’t. It made me feel as if the artillery inside my soul was now shooting ice crystals instead of explosive steel. You really were trying your best not to understand me.

 

“Missing is something so trivial when the only thing there is, is pain.”

 

My people had starved for a decade too, you know. Well, you knew, you understood that we both had suffered alike after the dream turned nightmarish. You grasped that we were both taken under foreign reign and both were made to pay. The scares were on both of us. Oh but you didn’t want to _realize_. I recall how I wanted to hit you for being so childish. But I would never have done that, back then, never. I would never hit my own brother, my protector and care-taker. Not after what you suffered on your own.

 

“Well compared to you, I am not afraid of pain anymore”

 

By your reaction I assume saying that had been a mistake. Somehow I always manage to be a bit tactless. But do you know why? It wasn’t my fault. I got raised that way. And not at all by my emperor, or president, or chancellor. All I ever knew was what you taught me, so maybe all my mistakes were your faults in the end. Oh sometimes I hated you so much. But that’s normal for people like us –if there were people like us- for  brothers, to hate each other at some point, wasn’t it? At least you hated me too in that moment. Reflecting it, that was also really sad. We had missed the other for a long time. Every day I had longed for you, my dearest brother, every day I had tried to convince the victors to tear down that ugly thing between us, every day I wondered how alone you must feel on the other side. And I knew in my heart you felt the same. Because even if my heart beat faster than yours, even if your time had gone and mine wasn’t there again yet, we were alike.

That moment your second reaction was faster than mine. You still were ready for war at any time given. You had always been the first to attack. _Better attack safe than defense sorry_ , you would have said. Back in your time, you would have laughed at that. But you didn’t grant me your laughter, which used to be hard and bellowing and from the heart. Instead your hand greeted me, knuckles first, and it stung for the following five days and turned some ugly shade of violet. War was still one of your specialties. But obviously not mine, since I didn’t win in a long, long while. It’s better that way. War was, has always been an ugly thing, uglier than what my face looked like after you showed me that you would win anyways. Oh brother why were you so stupid sometimes. Why was it so important to you to always be the strongest, the victorious one? I think I will never understand you completely. But you would never understand me either, so I think we’re equal.

We didn’t talk for a while after that quick and weird reunion. I had hoped for things to turn out way better, but I was not in the position to expect things, was I? Not of you, anyway. You avoided me for nearly exactly the time it took for the curdled blood beneath my skin to disappear, and I could see why you did that. I avoided myself in mirrors too for that time. I actually always use to avoid mirrors, I guess you know why. There were a lot of things to do, things we should have done together, things like paper work and rules and laws and everything important for being a unified nation again, but you absolutely didn’t help me. You should have known that I’m not good with laws, or constitutions, because all I ever learned about them was what you taught me a long time ago, but these orders weren’t in time anymore. So I took the old stuff and run error search over and over. When I was done, all you did was complain, but wordlessly. You glared at me, with this cold hardness of a winter gone long.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, I needed to talk to you. I’m not good with talking, I never were, and I’m never going to be, and asking you for what was wrong was so difficult for me. But talking is especially difficult if the one you want to talk to isn’t even present. It was as if you had vanished. Everyone I asked said they hadn’t seen you. America, whom I had to ask about nearly everything for the past decades, shrugged and said he had no clue. Hell, I even asked _Russia_ if he knew. And even that man responded friendlier to me after forty years of radio silence than you did. But he didn’t know.

So I was completely on my own. I doubted that you would be gone forever, so I didn’t mourn. Prussia doesn’t just die two days after being independent –more or less- again. Everyone agreed to that. But I _missed_ you. Like I always did. But now there was only you to blame for that. There was no wall and no occupying force to angrily stare at for hours on end. If time hadn’t proven to me that God didn’t care for us, I would have prayed for your return.

One morning, Hungary called me.

 

“Gilbert is here, if you want to see him.”  
“He is? Thank you.”

  
  
I didn’t even pack anything up, I just left. Nothing could get messed up when left alone for two days, right? Hungary told the truth, I found you at her place, in the large hall in which Austria used to reside while living with her back in their glorious era. You were staring at the paintings on the ceilings and walls and the colorful windows of the past, shimmering and glimmering in the southern sun. I could derive simply from the low hum you made while striding along the frescos how you missed those times. I would have missed them too. You didn’t turn around to say hello. At least your subtle limping had gone away. Your hair, though, was completely white, no silver left. As if you suddenly had gotten old. But marching feet and war drums have been silent for a while.

 

“What are you doing here, Ludwig?”

  
I didn’t even remember that you could pronounce my name with so much hostility. It stung with so much coldness in my heart. I suppressed a shiver and I stood still where I was, maybe ten meters away from you, or maybe ten kilometers. There was no difference, all distance was too much distance. I didn’t dare to come closer.

 

“I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to ask you to come back home.”  
“Home? Home is gone.”  
“Please, Gilbert. I need you.”

  
  
Until now it’s a miracle to me why you followed me back home after this ridiculous excuse of a reason. Maybe there was enough emotion in my voice back then to convince you. Or maybe you still held some other feelings for me than that unexplainable loathing. You didn’t speak on the way back to Berlin. I didn’t try to, either, I knew everything I would have said would have been wrong. I wanted everything to be back to how it used to be. When we promised each other happiness and security. When we were brothers. Aren’t we still brothers? I don’t know, and you probably forgot about that entirely. Otherwise I couldn’t find an explanation for your actions. By now I guess it was an act of desperation, of lack of control. You must have felt so terrible to behave like that. When I was younger, I did as you told me. As I got older, we both did what you said, while I was thinking everything you wanted was everything I wanted. When I began wanting different things, you helped me, you helped me even with my independence, at least on the surface. Whenever I thought I was acting on my own, there was someone sent by you to watch over me. Every single time I tried to change –develop, expand, mature- you pushed and shoved until I was heading straight through the barricades you needed me to tear down.

But, brother, dear older brother, anything, everything for you, but later, at home, later when you held your hands that way I realized that there is so much power in your cold arms, why didn’t you let go, breathing was so hard for me-

 

“So you said you needed me.” How could you look at me like that, why was the fire of your eyes now just frozen blood on snow, why did you say this so ironically, why didn’t you just stop pressing, that way I couldn’t answer you, and nodding never had counted as a proper respond for you.

 

“You think you missed me. You think it was all my fault.”

 

Yes, yes, brother I missed you so badly I thought artillery volleys were ripping apart my chest, but no, not ever would I think it was your fault. We were both guilty alike, I should have stopped you, or you should have stopped me but we were so mad, so insane and so so desperate for a better world, how could I blame you? But how could I have answered you, there was no oxygen there to use for words, so I was just staring back at you, wondering what you saw in my eyes.

 

“Do you have the slightest idea of how much you _hurt_ me, Ludwig?”

 

Your voice had gotten terribly low and guttural, it felt dangerous. I have only once heard you speak like this, but not to me, you were threatening someone else to _protect_ me, what made you change your mind so much, why did you need to scare me? I wasn’t hurting you, I could never do that! Everything I ever did was to keep harm from you, as you did for me all my life, we existed to protect each other, right? You were the reason I wanted to grow stronger and taller and better, to keep you safe when you could no longer, for a time when war drums were too slow and marching feet had long died, _please let go of my throat I am getting too dizzy, brother please!!_

 

“Have I ever hurt you, brother? Were you never afraid of me? You think I’m weak right?”

 

I was shaking my head frantically, I was pushing against your shoulders to get you off of me, but I sunk into the soft surface instead of directing the energy towards you. I would have kicked and hit and struggled full force, if it wasn’t you. Wasn’t this enough of an answer for you? Maybe I was afraid by the force you were showing. Never would I think about you being weak. There were too many scars on your back, too many callosities on the palms of your hands and way too much fierceness in your eyes, even when they were frosty. Finally your harsh fingers retreated from my neck and I swallowed in air as hastily as I could, coughing and chocking on the pressure left on my mind. I was sure the skin was turning dark there already. I was also sure you wouldn’t be looking at me again because of that. But my blood was yours too, right? Did you hate it because it was quicker than yours? You stared down at me, full of hate –disgust, loathing, rancor- so cold it was burning right into my soul and I wanted to scream at you, I wanted to make you stop that, but I couldn’t speak up to you, I wanted to prove that there was no reason for you to dislike me so much, I wanted to show you how much stronger you were than me-

My head fell to the left when you started hitting me, I shut my eyes due to my vision going dull already anyway, my checks turned hot from the violence of your cold hands there, and I didn’t raise my own to fight you off or to defend myself. You always knew what was right for me, the only thing you ever did was for my own good, that’s what you used to say, so why should I oppose you just in that moment, after we hadn’t seen each other for so long… I was so happy to finally have your attention again. There might have been tears in my eyes at that point, I can’t recall it in detail anymore. Also can’t I recall another time you decided to hit me. I really don’t remember you ever using violence, despite of all your Prussian orderliness.

 

“If you’re not afraid of getting hurt, I’m not afraid of how much I hurt you.”

 

You were pressing me down then, after you apparently decided that my face wasn’t worth of your hits anymore, and I was so puzzled and a faint feeling of terror was creeping along beneath my skin. At which moment  did you turn into that demon of a man?

 

“Gilbert, wait, I don-..”  
“ _No_! Silence! Not a word from you!”

 

Oh, there was another blow caressing my face, but why wouldn’t you listen to me? I could have explained what you misunderstood. But that would have been in vain, now that I can look at it clearly- you didn’t want or need to understand anything, because you were always _right_ , and I was always the one to follow you. My pulse was hammering blood through me and there was this loud ringing in my ears, it felt terribly annoying-

I was choking again, not from your hands this time but because there suddenly was something soft where usually air should be, something smelling familiar and fresh and oh right you were shoving me face down into that one pillow. Ah _please let go of my hair, please stop pushing this is uncomfortable, you’ll kill me if you continue that way!_  
My hands searched for a strong surface to push myself up, and maybe to escape, _there are four different movements to easily escape this situation, I just need to get my feet beneath his-_

 __  
  
“I taught you to fight back at all costs, I told you to resist every power in this universe! Fight me! Do you think I’m not a ‘power’? Fear me, fear me, I’m not ‘nothing’, I’m still there, I am -…I am..-!”

  
Gilbert, you should have heard yourself. You were yelling, screaming, shouting at me, while pulling my head back up to slam it down again, I forgot where was left and right and up and down for a while, but you sounded so scared and so angry and so broken that I couldn’t stand listening to you for much longer, I was so worried. As let go, I was sure there was blood on your fingers and on my scalp now, it was burning on the back of my head and there was a hum in my ears and you were still screaming and maybe crying and I still don’t understand.

Oh it had gotten colder, there was air on my back, it was chilly and how did it get there where were my clo- _did you just gasp_? You didn’t expect my skin to look as marred as yours now, right? Obviously not, your hands started ghosting over the knotted flesh, following them all over my back, I was shuddering because your finger tips were icy and it itched on certain spots and you reminded me of that one large, edgy scar on my shoulder blade, I almost had forgotten about it but America insisted on burning this symbol into the skin so I would do the exact opposite, to never forget but somehow- somehow-.. _that hurt oh_.

 

“Who the fuck _dared_ to do this, no one is allowed to do this to you, what did they even think, I need to _kill_ someone for this”

 

Your words were a low incoherent mumbling and I felt so uncomfortable, I wanted you to stop looking at those scars, all of them were yelling of how weak I was without you and I didn’t want you to think about them because there even was one from the left side of my neck down to my right hip bone in the shape of the border that didn’t exist anymore now, and it was just so shameful.

The moment your nails dug into the hollow beneath my hip bones I had to bite back a scream. I tried to struggle away now, for real, because now there was actual fear clumping in my guts and burning my thoughts. You had gone insane, I finally understood. The reason had faded like the royal silver tint in your hair. And there was no way to tell what you decided to do next, and then I needed escape. It made it worse, I think I made you angry, angrier, if that was possible, if anger was even an emotion you possessed then- suddenly I felt teeth on my neck, right on that one scar, that one that was like the border by the Baltic sea and I didn’t want it to open again but the teeth sunk in and it grew hot and it burnt and _ow_!

 

“Ah, Gilbert, _stop_!”  
“Shut _UP_!”

 

Your fingernails dragged across the skin, tearing at the scars, and you were growling and there came some giggles along too, and I bit on my lips so I wouldn’t make a sound because I was better off quiet. You smeared some of the liquid from these small wounds on your fingers, I could feel that, then you- I don’t know I really don’t want to know, but I do- withdrew those fingers and made a satisfied sound. You bit me again, as if I wasn’t biting myself enough, and licked it up and chuckled and you were so scary. You moved from sitting on my lower back to between my legs and- _it would have been so easy for me to just kick you, my foot would easily meet your face and maybe your nose would break and you wouldn’t be able to see from the blood suddenly in your eyes-_ why did I feel your fingers there, what was your plan I didn’t see through your haze of madness there are still scars please _please don’t look_!

 

“Ludwig,… _Germany_ , you’re all I ever wanted. But somehow, you’re just never enough, so what did I do wrong with you..”

 

I think that’s when I actually started crying, because what you started doing then was simply too much. How did you even manage to do this, how did you get it to hurt so much, things like that usually don’t hurt, they are supposed to feel good, but you were doing this so carelessly, and _also I am your brother what the fuck is wrong with you!  
_ This was too much and you were completely losing yourself while pushing into me with this tremendous force, and it hurt and felt like drowning me, the ringing in my ears so so loud I couldn’t distinguish between the things I heard anymore. You were swearing and cursing at me in words no one should ever say, your hot breath was on my skin and I felt so disgusting, you ripped away my dignity with every time I squeezed my eyes shut to try to bear it-

 

“No, Gil-…stop, this…ah”

  
These words I couldn’t hold back and I assume you probably didn’t hear them, and whatsoever didn’t care about what I said, or how I had sobbed them out with ragged breath. I still tried to keep quiet, but sounds were breaking free from my throat, guttural noises I should never have been forced to make, not because of you, you were never supposed to do this to me. I couldn’t move on my own anymore, the pain was to overwhelming, but you seemed to like it, you indulged in the feeling and I was slammed into the mattress over over and over again and my vision was gone completely and why didn’t my consciousness just shut down it would have been such a relief, _oh mighty god please_.

I can’t remember when it was over. Everything was hot and sticky and messy and terribly painful and I still missed you. But I remember that you had your arms around me and crushed me afterwards, and I was still sobbing quietly, and I think I was trembling too and then you thought you still had the right to kiss me- kiss me, like before, like when I was young and you brought me to bed  or when I woke with a nightmare and you soothed me- but your lips were so cold and there were your teeth and you bit me with these and made me bleed and I wanted to get away from you still, you were still scaring me and I shook my head to get you off.

 

“You’re mine again now, aren’t you, brother dear? You’ll never get separated from me again.”

 

I stilled, and my sobs stopped, and I held my breath, and I closed my eyes. Maybe I could choke myself to sleep. It didn’t work. Nations don’t just faint like that.

 

“Answer me, Ludwig.”

 

You always knew how to control me. Still not breathing, I pushed my head to your shoulder- oh my head hurt- as if I wanted to feel your closeness, as if I didn’t want to run and forget the insanity you just unleashed.

 

“Ludwig.”

 

Your tone of voice is so pressuring. Please don’t please just leave me alone no no uh I don’t want to talk to you I don’t want you to look at me or anything please-

 

“Yes,” I croaked, quietly, brokenly, “I love you”

 


End file.
